


you're a good guy, too

by slnkingboat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, The 100 (TV) Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slnkingboat/pseuds/slnkingboat
Summary: Jackson is used to seeing Miller come back wounded, but it doesn't change how hard it is to watch him in pain.  Oneshot that takes place during 5x12, after Miller and his army returns from the gorge.
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	you're a good guy, too

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I started rewatching the 100 because of quarantine boredom and I fell in love with it all over again. Miller and Jackson deserve more screentime, so this is me trying to make up for that. Enjoy!

Jackson never liked the battlefield. How many battles had he gotten caught up in now? Too many to count, he thought to himself. That was the thing about being one of the only doctors in a world full of bloodshed and war; you were constantly trying to save people who couldn’t be saved.

He had treated patients in countless battles against grounders, and that had made him grow accustomed to sword and spear-induced wounds. On the Ark, he treated sickness and minor injuries as a result of normal day-to-day life. But this fight was different. This was the first time they were facing an enemy with the same gunpower that they had, and it showed. With Abby on the other side, Jackson was alone in facing bullet wound after bullet wound, and he felt like he was floundering.

 _Abby_. Jackson had grown so used to having her by his side. He had been her apprentice, and even when he outgrew that title and became a real doctor, it never stopped feeling like she was the one in charge and he was the one following orders. He liked it that way. It was easier to let someone else lead, easier to let someone else charge into the fight. It was easier just to be a follower.

But he wasn’t a follower anymore. He couldn’t be. It had been weeks that he’d been on his own, and he had been forced to step into a role that he felt he wasn’t ready for. Sure, he had Niylah and a few others to help, but they all looked to him for orders.

He was trying his hardest. He was a good doctor; he knew that much. Abby was the best of the best, and he learned everything from her. Still, as he hung up another bag of blood, he wished desperately that she was here to take some of the blow.

He tied off a tourniquet on the man he was helping and tried not to wonder if this particular warrior was going to make it or not. The bullet in his thigh had been deep, but Jackson was able to extract it. He lost a lot of blood, which is why Jackson was trying to give him extra to keep him alive. He knew their blood supply was dangerously low. Their everything supply was dangerously low. It was hard enough to treat this many wounded fighters in a real medical facility; Jackson was working with next to nothing.

 _Deep breaths_ , he told himself. _One patient at a time. You can do this._

He heard a familiar voice shout for help, and he looked up. As soon as he saw a glimpse of Nathan Miller’s face, he dropped everything he was doing and rushed to him.

That was the other difficult thing about his job. Besides having everyone relying on him all the time, he also had to try not to worry about his boyfriend, who happened to be the one leading the army into battle. Up until that point, he had been busying himself with the wounded. He forced himself not to scan the crowd, looking for his face. Because the truth was, this wasn’t their first war together. Nate was a guard; he was constantly in the path of danger, and Jackson was constantly forced to stay behind. By now, Jackson knew that Nate could take care of himself. Each time they said goodbye, he closed his eyes and told himself that everything would be okay and that they would see each other again.

But no matter how used to farewells they were, it still never changed the feeling that he had when he saw his boyfriend return alive. An overwhelming rush of relief; like he had been holding his breath this whole time and now he could finally exhale. Like he could finally breathe easy. Seeing Nate’s face again on that barren wasteland gave him that feeling.

Miller was carrying someone else on his back. He was stumbling, his face covered in scratches and dried blood. Jackson ran to him at the same time as Monty, Harper, and Niylah, and together they laid down the man that Miller had been carrying.

Jackson immediately started going through the motions and scanned the man in front of him for possible injury. Unfortunately, it didn’t take him long to realize that he wasn’t breathing.

Then he heard Harper say, “Miller, you’re hit!”

“It’s just a scratch,” Miller responded.

Jackson could hear the pain in his voice, and sure enough, when he looked up at his face, he saw him grimace and wince every time he moved. “Nate, let me see,” he said, hurrying to stand up and help him. Jackson put a hand on his shoulder tenderly, trying his hardest not to engulf the other man in a strong embrace right then and there.

“Take his blood. Give it to Miller,” Niylah ordered a nearby helper, gesturing to the dead man in front of them.

“Miller, did you see Bellamy?” asked Monty

Jackson put his arm around Nate’s back, wanting to keep him as close as possible.

“He’s with Octavia. We gotta go back to get them,” said Miller. He sounded exhausted, but Jackson could still hear the determination in his voice.  
“Get them?” shouted someone. “This is their fault! The enemy was waiting for us!”

Jackson looked up to see a woman whose name he couldn’t quite remember. Brell, maybe? It was one of the guards, someone who Miller had gone into battle with. She seemed irate.

He felt Miller tense up underneath his arm. “Well, maybe if you and the rest of the Flame cult didn’t turn tail - ” he bellowed, lunging forward at her. Jackson grabbed him with both arms, holding him back. He could feel his boyfriend trembling from exhaustion and anger, and he kept a firm grasp around his body.

Brell drew her sword and advanced towards Miller. “Say that again,” she spat.

“Enough!” Monty shouted, standing up. In a rather demanding voice, he asked, “Were they alive?”

There was silence for a moment. Even some of the commotion amongst the other returning fighters had died down. Jackson turned his head to look at Nate, whose tired face was inches from his. He finally answered, “I don’t know. That’s why we...that’s why we gotta go back.” His voice was weak, and he was struggling to get the words out. He was leaning heavily on Jackson, who kept both arms wrapped around him.

“Then you go back alone. No one else is dying to save Blodreina,” said the woman sternly.

Miller broke out of Jackson’s embrace and said, “Brell, we can still win.” He staggered towards her, but she just looked at him and shook her head.

Miller turned around to face everyone else, who were now all completely silent. “We can still win!” he shouted. His voice echoed across the desert, and he turned around, looking at his army. They all stared back at him without a word. The unspoken message was clear: this war was over. No one wanted to follow him back into battle. They had lost too much.

“We can still win,” Nate panted. His voice was faint, nothing more than a whisper. “We can still win.” And then his eyes closed and his legs collapsed underneath him, sending him backwards to the ground.

“Nate!” exclaimed Jackson. A wave of concern washed over him. He moved quickly, catching his boyfriend under the arms and breaking his fall. Monty, Harper, and Niylah all rushed to his side.

“Get me a suture kit and something for his pain!” Jackson shouted to whoever would listen. He took a closer look at Miller to see that his left arm was covered in blood, which sent him into even more of a panic.

“We’re all out,” said Niylah.

Jackson looked up at her. “Of what?”

“Of everything.”

Jackson heard someone come in over the radio looking for Bellamy, and Monty rushed off to answer it. Jackson turned back to look at Miller. He tore open his sleeve to get a better look at the wound, which was still bleeding profusely.

“He’s lost too much blood,” Jackson said.

“I’m on it,” Niylah answered. “Harper, come help me!”

The two women hurried to get needles and blood bags, hopefully to draw blood from the fallen soldier that Miller had brought back with him. While they worked, Jackson assessed the damage. Thankfully, it looked like the bullet had only grazed his arm, rather than going all the way in. There was no trace of any shrapnel. Just a lot of blood.

Jackson cleaned up the wound as much as he could, trying not to let his fingers shake. He knew Nate would be fine, but he still hated to see the man he loved in so much pain.  
He had treated thousands of nameless, faceless patients in his life, one right after the other. He always did it calmly, with ease. But when it was someone he cared about so incredibly much, it made doing the job a lot harder. Every time he patched Nate up, he couldn’t help but think about what would happen one day if he couldn’t save him. It terrified him.

“Nate?” Jackson asked softly. “Can you hear me?”

Nathan moaned quietly. His head turned so that his cheek fell to Jackson’s lap, but he didn’t open his eyes. His breathing was shallow, but still there. _Thank god_ , Jackson thought.

“Jackson, bring him over here!” Niylah shouted. She had set up a blood bag for him in a nearby tent and was waving him over. Harper ran to help Jackson, and the two of them dragged Miller to where Niylah was.

Jackson hurried to take over and give Miller the blood that he needed. Once they had him all hooked up, he kept a cloth pressed firmly to the wound to try and stop the blood flow, since they didn’t have anything to stitch him up with.

As he watched the blood transfusion happen, he felt a soft hand on his arm. He turned his head to look at Harper, who was giving him a ghost of a smile. “He’s going to be okay,” she said.

Jackson knew how close Harper and Monty had been with Miller when they were in Mount Weather. They were all a part of the 100, a kind of family that Jackson knew he would never truly understand. When they were in the bunker, Nate talked about Monty and Harper all the time. The two of them, plus Bellamy, had been the people that Nate missed the most.

Besides his father, of course.

Jackson smiled back at Harper. “Yeah,” he said. “He is.”

“Medic!”

It came from outside. Jackson’s instincts kicked in, and he started to move out of the tent towards the call.

“No,” said Niylah. “Harper and I will go check the others. You stay here with Miller.”

Jackson stopped, feeling simultaneously anxious about not being able to treat someone and relieved that he didn’t have to leave Nate. He just nodded, and both women left, taking what supplies they could find with them.

“Jacks.”

Nate’s voice was still weak, but when Jackson turned around to look at him, his eyes were open.

Jackson was at his side again, putting his hand to his boyfriend’s cheek and letting out a sigh of relief. “Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Great,” said Nathan. His face said otherwise. He tried to sit up and grunted in pain when he moved his left arm.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jackson put an arm on his back and helped him up slowly. “Take it easy, okay? That’s a pretty vicious scratch.”

Nate frowned, reaching with his good arm to touch Jackson’s face. “You’re hurt,” he said.

For a moment, Jackson had no idea what he was talking about. Then he remembered the cut on his cheek that he had gotten from the crystallized sand. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Shh, it’s okay,” replied Jackson, reaching up to hold Nate’s hand and move it away from his face. “It’s from the sandstorms. Besides, _I’m_ hurt? Have you seen yourself?”

The other man gave what could have been a smile if they were under better circumstances. It made Jackson’s heart swell just a little bit. “Shut up,” he said. “I’m fine. Now let me get back out there so I can rally the troops.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jackson told him. “You need to rest.”

“Like hell I do! Jacks, we have a war to fight.” Nate tried to stand up, but Jackson put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He was still hooked up to the blood bag, and as soon as he noticed that, he started trying to get it off.

“No, you don’t,” Jackson said. He pushed Miller’s hand away from the needles and started unhooking the tubes himself. “You’ve done the best you could, okay? Now we have to sit and wait.”

Jackson could tell that Nate was getting angry. He knew how much this fight meant to him, and he knew that he was always going to be loyal to Octavia. Nate was her right-hand man in the bunker, and this was no different. It made sense that he wanted to go back for her and Bellamy. But at the same time, Jackson had read the faces of the army out there. None of them wanted to go back under fire.

“Wait for what?” exclaimed Miller. Jackson could feel how restless and anxious he was getting. “We can’t just sit around here! We don’t have _anything_!”

Jackson sighed. “Believe me, I know. We’re all out of stitches and your arm still needs to be sewn up.”

“My arm is _fine_. Now let me go!” he shouted. He tried to stand up again, this time more forcefully. Jackson stumbled back, dropping the unhooked needles, and Nate tried to push past him.

“Hey!” said Jackson, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him back. “Listen to me! You have to stay here and get some rest, and that’s an order.”

“To hell with your orders!”

“ _Nate!_ ”

Suddenly, Miller stopped struggling and collapsed against Jackson. For a moment, Jackson was worried that he had passed out again. Then he heard quiet sobs and felt the other man’s body shuddering against his. He carefully reached both arms around Nate and held him tight, just like he had wanted to the moment that he saw him return safe.

“I’m sorry,” Nate whispered.

“It’s okay,” Jackson whispered back, reaching up to hold the back of Nate’s head. “You’re okay.”

For a moment the two men stood there in each other’s arms. It was rare that Miller showed any kind of emotion like this, so Jackson knew to keep quiet until he was ready to talk.

Usually Jackson was the one who teared up over all the hardships they’d had to face. Miller was used to comforting Jackson and telling him how everything was going to be okay. It always made Jackson feel weak, like he was just the stupid doctor who wasn’t strong enough to handle anything.

But now he knew that he had to be strong for Nate. He could only imagine what being on the front line of battle felt like, and he dearly hoped he would never have to find out. Nate was so much stronger and braver than he was. He was a man who never let his guard down. Jackson admired that about him, but he also knew that there would be times like these where the walls would come crashing down.

“I let them all down,” said Nate quietly, still gripping Jackson tightly. “We lost. We have no food, no water, and no way into the valley, and it’s all my fault - ”

“No it’s not.” Jackson cut him off. “You weren’t the one who sold them out, right? You had no way of knowing that you lost your advantage. This is in no way your fault. If anything, they should be thanking you for getting this many people back here alive.”

“But we lost so many.”

Jackson pulled back just far enough to where he was looking Nate in the eyes. “We didn’t lose you. And that’s all that matters to me.”

He wiped the tears and the blood off of Miller’s face with the pad of his thumb tenderly and tried to stop tears of his own from escaping his eyes.

Nate swallowed and pressed his forehead against Jackson’s. “It was a massacre, Jacks. We didn’t stand a chance. No one will follow me now.”

“I will always follow you. I promise.”

Jackson closed the gap between them and put his lips to Miller’s, letting his eyes fall shut. The kiss was slow and tender, both of them knowing how rare moments like these were. It seemed like there was always another battle to fight, always another wound to heal, but right now...right now, it was just the two of them. Everything else melted away.  
When they broke apart, Jackson felt a pang in his heart. He never wanted to let go of his partner. He wanted the two of them to stay like that, kissing softly in the tent for the rest of eternity. That way they would never have to put themselves in danger again.

“Nate, I’m so glad you’re okay,” said Jackson. He wanted the other man to know how much he cared for him and how important he was. He lacked all the necessary words to communicate what needed to be said, but Nate seemed to understand. He always did.

“I know,” Miller said. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“We’ll figure it out. Monty’s talking to Echo right now. They’ll come up with a plan.”

Miller nodded. “Okay.”

This time it was Nate who surged forwards and captured Jackson’s lips with his own. Their second kiss was much more aggressive, and Jackson stumbled back a bit, caught off guard. When he regained his balance, he grabbed either side of Miller’s face and returned the kiss eagerly. Then, without thinking, he reached down to the other man’s arm and -

“ _Ow_ ,” grunted Miller, stepping out of Jackson’s embrace and grabbing his arm.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Nate,” said Jackson. When he looked at his boyfriend’s arm, he realized the cloth had long come off and it was bleeding again.

“It’s okay,” said Miller gruffly. Jackson grabbed a fresh cloth and tied it around the wound.

“There,” he said. “All better.”

Miller snorted. “Thanks, Doc.”

Faintly, Jackson could hear someone calling for him from outside the tent. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He knew it was his job, but he was tired. He just wanted a few seconds longer with Nate.

“Duty calls,” said Miller. When Jackson opened his eyes, he saw the same sad look reflected in his boyfriend’s eyes. “You’re okay, right?” Nate asked.

Jackson nodded. “Yeah. It’s just a lot to handle without Abby.”

“Shh,” said Miller. He squeezed Jackson’s shoulders. “You’re an amazing doctor. You can do this.”

“Thanks,” replied Jackson weakly, glancing down and fumbling with his coat.

“Look at me,” said Nate. Jackson did. Nate’s warm brown eyes were still shining from tears, but they were also full of hope. And love. “You’re one of the only good guys left, Jackson. Go be one for me,” he said.

Jackson just shook his head. “You’re a good guy, too, Nate.”

“I wish that were true.”

“You _are_.”

They kissed for a third time, which almost seemed too good to be true. When was the last time they had kissed this many times? Jackson tried to remember, but the feeling of Nate’s lips on his were drowning out his thoughts.

“ _Jackson_! Oh - sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The two men stepped away from each other to see Monty at the opening of the tent, looking slightly embarrassed.

“What is it, Monty?” asked Miller.

“Uh, Harper told me to give you guys as much time alone as we could, but...it’s pretty bad out there. We need your help.”

Miller took a step towards Monty. “Come on, can’t he just - ”

“It’s okay, Nate,” said Jackson. “I’ll see you later, okay? Stay here and rest.”

Miller just nodded and leaned forward to give him one more hug. Jackson happily complied, wrapping his arms around the other man one more time.

“I love you so much,” whispered Miller in his ear.

“I love you, too,” Jackson replied.

He gathered his supplies and his medical bag and left Monty and Miller alone to talk strategy. As he walked away from the tent and towards the heap of injured warriors, he felt his lips still tingling from Nate’s kiss. He couldn’t help but smile. Even in this pit of turmoil, even amongst all the war and hatred and bloodshed, he had something wonderful to hold on to.

He found Niylah and knelt down to help her with the tourniquet she was fashioning.

“Miller’s okay, then?” she asked, handing him supplies.

“Yeah,” Jackson answered.

He saw her smile at him. “I’m glad.”

He just smiled back. Facing a wasteland full of injured men and women, Jackson felt more confident than he ever had. Nate was okay. Jackson was okay. They had each other, and everything was going to be okay.

Now to get to work on the rest.


End file.
